Same Direction
by Requiem of Silence
Summary: When one path is chosen, what happens to the rest? How different could a story be, if there was only one change? If Trisha died too early, what would happen to Ed and Al?
1. Here Lies

**Same Direction**

An FMA AU fic

**Chapter I:** Here Lies . . .

Author's Note: Ah, this is the brain child of avoiding gardening while talking to a sober younger brother. I love the concept and would like feedback. If there is a fic like this already out there, please please let me know because I would really want this idea to be written by someone else.

Disclaimer: I do not own Hagaren and the likeliness that I ever will is disturbingly tiny.

**WARNING! There is swearing and later on, as the story progresses there will be spoilers! **If you squint you can see pairings, shounen-ai, straight, Elricest or what-not, but there is no intention to set a definite pairing. (:cough:lie:cough:)

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"Push one more time!"

A deafening scream alerted all of Lizenbuel that a new baby was born into their town. It came from the Rockbell's automail shop just a little ways from the Elric residence.

"There you are dear," Sara Rockbell handed the cleaned baby to Trisha. "A bouncing baby boy."

The woman had tears in her eyes as she held the child, cradling him in her arms as one would hold a treasure made of fragile glass. "Ah, you took a long time, darling," she breathed. The infant scrunched its nose up and started bawling again. She smiled and rocked him back and forth, patting him as she did so and murmuring a lullaby.

Mark Rockbell had a towel in his hands as he went out of the sterilized room they helped patients in to the living room, where a one-year-old Edwad was sitting on his father's knee, a blue pacifier in his mouth. "It went smoothly, a little longer than we thought, but Trisha's going to be fine," he said, a grin on his face. "Cute kid, too. I hope Sara will deliver well." Mark noted that their rubber stamper was missing.

"So do I, Mark," Hohenheim said, matching the younger man's expression. Edward blinked at the two, his bright hair reflecting off of the lights in the room. "I bet Ed wants to see his little brother now. Is it all right?"

Rockbell shrugged. "Yeah, I guess. But you might want to wait till the place is cleaned up. There's plenty of blood." Seeing the flicker of worry on the Elric he added, "But, like I said, it's all fine."

Hohenheim forced a smile. "Of course." He patted Ed on the head. The blond giggled and wrapped his tiny fingers around Hohenheim's thumb, pulling it up and down like a lever.

It took half an hour, but Mark came out again, the perpetual grin on his face as he directed son and father to a small furnished room with a comfortable looking bed and a cradle. Engraved at the foot of the crib it said, 'Alphonse' and a sleeping cat with a bird perched on its head was carved under it. "Trisha, are you feeling all right?" Hohenheim asked, as he sat down and put a hand on his wife's, holding his son in the other. The newborn was on her chest, being cradled just as protectively.

"Yes, dear," she said. "Look, Alphonse." The baby was fast asleep, probably worn from the exit.

The man's hand crept from his wife's to his little son, stroking the tiny arms. "He certainly is something," he chuckled. "Just like his brother."

Ed seemed to perk up, like he knew they were talking about him. "Da! Ma!" he cried in a high voice, clapping his hands.

"Aww," Trisha said, reaching out her hand for Ed. One of her arms around Ed's small shoulders and one holding Alphonse, she said, "Now look you two, please get along with each other. Ed, this is your little brother Al."

"Ah?" Ed squeaked.

She giggled. "Al."

"Llllll . . . " he drawled.

"Right! Now put them together."

"Ah . . . Llllll . . ."

Her soft smile seemed to brighten at hearing Ed talk. "Al! That's right. What a smart boy!" Ed giggled and clapped again, pleased that his mother was pleased. "I'll see you tomorrow, dear," she said, pecking his cheek. "Bye Bye Ed!"

"Bye, Trisha," Hohenheim said, kissing her forehead. "Don't work so hard, and take a rest."

"Of course, darling," the brunette replied, waving.

Hohenheim walked down the road home, infant Ed on his shoulder. "Today you met Al, Ed! He's such a beautiful boy, he has your mother's radiance, and you do too. Both of you will grow up just fine without me," he said. Edward looked down at him, curious as to why Papa had such a serious tone.

_- Two years Later - _

"Perfect! Beautiful! Now, just stay right there . . . gotcha!" A flash and whooshing sound and the camera man lifted the black veil around the contraption. "You make a nice family, Mr. Elric."

"Thank you," Hohenheim replied, Ed balanced on his shoulders as Al held onto his mother's shirt and sucked the pacifier his father transmuted for him. "When will it be developed?"

"Ahh, give me a week or so. I'll have it to you by then," he said, folding the tripod and such complicated doo-flickeys into the carrying case again.

"Of course," Hohenheim said. "In a week, then."

"Sure, bye Mr. E!" The young man hurried down the hill and got into the car. Waving he drove off, probably late for another job.

Trisha smiled faintly as she cuddled Al in her arms. "It's nice, isn't it?" she asked, staring at the endless blue sky.

Hohenheim watched her, entranced by her pure spirit. The brown hair rolling down her shoulders, streaming around her fine face and gentle olive eyes. The conservative clothing teased the imagination, not revealing her magnificent figure but hinting that it certainly was there. Taken. "Yes, it most certainly is."

"Papa," Ed said, pulling his shirt shoulder. "Papa."

He looked up, feeling a bit off-balanced with his son there. "Yes, Ed?"

"We done?" he asked, his voice innocently childish, but his face a charming mix of omni-present glee and curiosity.

"Yes, Ed, we're done," he said, smiling. "Now you're going to stay with Mama while I go to get some things." He lifted the boy off him and placed him gently on the ground, where Ed walked/hobbled to his mother.

There was a farm nearby owned by a man from the East, his dark complexion revealing his home land. None the less, he was honest and did good business with anyone. As long as they were nice enough. The farm had a modest but good plantation, so he traded anything for the food. The Elric paid off his debts by fixing things and making new tools. "Hello John, I'm picking up some things for Trisha and heading back, I'm sorry I won't have enough time to fix anything for you." He picked a basket and headed toward the fields, which were sparated from each other and thieves with a long wooden fence.

"It's all right, Elric, I don't need any fixing," he replied, walking out to join Hohenheim. "So, how's Trisha and the kids? I hear the poor woman is feeling under the weather lately."

Hohenheim's face was grave. "Yes, I think it's some sort of illness, but she won't admit it and doesn't want to go to the doctor's."

John tapped his chin while he watched Hohenheim transmute a stick end to something more claw-like so he could get some high up apples. "You could use alchemy to heal it. Aren't there medical uses for alchemy? Something 'bout another country studying it to make herbal medicine."

"Xing," Hohenheim replied. "And I don't know the nature of the sickness. Treating it would be like experimenting on how to put a fire out. If you don't know how, you could guess that water or earth might do it, but you don't know how much or how little and you may just pick up kerosene instead. All the factors could make it better or worse, or just stave it off for a while to have it resurface later on. I can't take that risk with Trisha."

"So bring a doctor to you. Wouldn't Mark take a look?" he asked.

"I suppose, but she'd be upset," he said, a small fake smile on his face.

"It's worth her life," John pointed out. "Please, Elric, I thought alchemists were smart people."

Hohenheim laughed good-naturedly. "So did I."

They fare-welled and Hikari no Hohenheim trotted up the path. His arms full of vegetables and fruits. He and Ed could go fishing while Trisha looked after Al and cooked. He was just a little too young to go out in a boat. A train whistle blew and the locomotive whizzed past him, blowing his unruly dark blond hair in front of his face. As he watched the train leave, he thought how much longer he could stand to stay, the skin beginning to rot and the smell everyone mistook for perfume was starting to become sickening.

He couldn't just abandon them, could he? Just leave them and make Trisha raise the two boys on her own with that sickness. That was cruel. It was heart-breaking to think what would happen to Trisha and Edward and Alphonse if his wife died after he left. Pinako would take care of them, but they'd grow up without a true mother's love and Trisha . . . He wouldn't do that to his sons, his loving wife. He'd rather kill himself than do that.

Al's wail had been going on for several minutes. Edward did that when he was little, crying and crying for no reason and they couldn't quiet him down. What a pair of lungs that child had, Hohenheim mused fondly. It was Al, he knew. It sounded just like him. There was only one other baby and that was Winry, but she had a much higher pitched voice. Ed had stopped his bawling fits not too long ago, being more physical in his demands.

Unlocking the door, he felt a dark emotion and pushed the wooden door open. Ed had his arms around the still crying Al and looked at his father, a look of confusion on his face. "Mama," he said. Hohenheim dropped the basket and ran to Trisha. He carefully turned her over from her face-down position on the floor. She was sweating and her hair clung to her face, breathing deeply as if there were something sitting on her chest.

"Dear," she murmured. He took her hand and kissed it, then kissed her cheek, where a tear was falling. "Dear, please, make me a corsage. Please . . . like you always do."

"You won't die, Trisha," Hohenheim said, squeezing her hand. He picked her up and carried her over to the Rockbell's, listening to Ed's pattering footsteps as the little boy tried to keep up with him. He went back for the child and his brother as soon as he gave the dying woman to Mark. "Mommy's going to be all right," he said to the two in his arms. "She'll be just fine."

But she wasn't. Trisha Elric died soon after, a corsage of white roses on her chest. Hohenheim sat at the grave for three weeks, tears rolling down his face as he carressed the gray rock and continually put flowers at the head stone. He sat there. Sorrowful and alone. He wouldn't eat or sleep. The picture of her smiling face still imprinted in his mind. Engraved in the place where he would always go back and wonder why it had come out like this. Why she died. Why this felt so wrong.

Pinako left food for him, Sara brought Edward to see his father. That was always a comfort. The little boy would hug his father's arm and they would sit there, staring at her tomb, a silent conversation between father and son. Al was sometimes with his older brother, and he'd have this look that saddened him. That resemblance to Trisha. Mark and John would stay and chat with Hohenheim, they would sit and drink. Sometimes sharing the quiet and other times talking about the local news or how this and that would change around.

A month more of mourning at her grave, and finally he left. On his legs for the first time and trotting to Pinako's, taking in the air that was so fresh and crisp and light, unlike the cemetery's dark gloom.

_"Take care of Ed and Al. Do this last thing for me, dear."_

Purity, she died as perfect as when Hohenheim first met her.

_- Nine Years Later -_

"I want Mom back as much as you, old man, just don't get in my way," Edward said, glaring at his father. He crossed his arms and poured in the water. A mound of gray sat in the basin. Hohenheim watched his determined son as he threw his life away to bring back a woman he barely remembered.

"Ed, don't," he said. "Nothing can come of this. If I can not convince you - you may have to learn this the hard way." His grave face did not show his eyes, which were cast downwards. His glasses reflected the light of the lamp on the table. Hohenheim's shoulders sunk.

"What hard way? This is equivalent exchange!" the young Elric cried. His anger at his father was never hidden, nor was it any sharper than before.

"Niisan . . ." Al said, glancing at his brother. "Niisan, don't fight with Dad now. Please?" Inside, he felt no drive to go along with his brother, so stood at the sidelines beside his father. Leaning towards his father, he whispered, "Daddy, why are you doing this? Mom isn't coming back, human alchemisation is forbidden!"

"Al, you wouldn't remember because she died when you were still a baby but . . . your mother was a wonderful, beautiful person and you are her exact reflection," Hohenheim answered in a low voice. "I can make this work, Al. All you have to do is trust me and I'll bring your mother back." He was dying. Hohenheim was dying, in a few more years he'd be nothing more than ashes and his cursed soul could rest in peace. But leaving the boys now, leaving them without a guardian, they would do something that would inflict damage on them, more damage than could ever happen to his sons. "Al, just promise me that you'll stay here."

The youngest Elric nodded. His father had told him and warned him over and over not to step within five feet of the matrix, ever. No matter what. Alphonse felt rejected, like he wasn't a good enough alchemist to know what to do, but Edward grudgingly agreed with his father it was too dangerous for Al and told him in the kindest way he could that Al shouldn't cross the boundary. He loved his only family and did as they told him. He couldn't do anything else.

Hohenheim stood at the very edge, his shoes touching the carefully drawn white chalk circle. "Edward, I can do this on my own."

"No. I'm going to get mom back, with or without you," Ed answered, looking like he could spit on his father.

"Fine, then."

Edward grabbed a knife from the table and cut his finger, droplets of blood anded in th basin, to complete the transaction. He shook the blade at his father, but Hohenheim merely shook his head. "Suit yourself," Ed grumbled, letting a few extra drops go in.

The two laid their hands on the circle and a bright yellow light swirled around them. Al and Ed looked at it with wonder, both taking in gasps of surprise and excitement. Their father was waiting for it. The yellow light, as quickly as it sprung up, turned purple. A dark purple that swirled together and caused the tornado of light to be black. Al bit his lip and gripped the wall to keep himself from running in. Edward screamed. A long trailing wail as Hohenheim shouted to him somethin indistinct. Al couldn't help himself. He ran into the circle. "Niisan!"

His brother's arm was breaking down and disappearing, being taken. Taken somewhere. And his father's legs and arm, going. The twin shocks, coming one after the other, did not prepare him for the black thing that wrapped around his head.

_-To Be Continued-_

End Notes: Feedback please! I am one needy bitch! XD No, really, all I need is one nice review and I'm all happy and belting out a song. Along with a few pages of work. Ain't that great? Imagine two? Or three? I could finish a novel with ten reviews.

Aaah, I kept it short because short chapters seem to attract more attention than long ones, unless they're well-written or have an interesting plot. Or both, which is always a plus. I think the plot is so-so, the writing is awful. T.T Any critique on style most certainly welcome!

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_Next; Chapter Two: City in Sand_

_Alphonse: Lies are always layered with a thin cover of truth. The dead can come back. But not always the way we want them._


	2. City in the Sand

**Same Direction **

Chapter II: City in Sand

Author's Notes: Five pages. Five pages of this fic was deleted when some moron turned off my computer. FIVE. FUCKING. PAGES. It took me so long to get an idea and pen it and then someone DELETED IT. God. It might have been all right if I didn't have it exactly how I wanted it done and now I feel like crap. :cough: But enough bitching. This is dedicated to kurama-sweethart (Moe), my muy awesome beta and practically the only reason I continue. Check out her Fullmetal Alchemist fic 'Dimensions', it's a beautiful read and will get your brain going and heart racing. Guaranteed. A tear-jerking story by a seasoned writer. (I sound like I'm selling a product. o.0)

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A blond trudged through the endless amount of sand. For miles around, he could see nothing but the yellow grains. Black peaks somewhere South looked like buildings, but he really wasn't sure. Despite the unbelievably hot, muggy day he still wore a a long red coat with a black cross and snake design on the back, and under that was a black jacket trimmed with white and under _that_ was a black sleeveless top. The black pants and boots and white gloves (which were very unpractical no matter where you are or how hot it was) covered him almost entirely. Not only was all that clothing layered on him, he carried a seemingly heavy brown suitcase. It was no wonder when he flopped down face first in the sand, not noticing the burning sensation on his face.

"I'm hungry" he whined into the sand. "If there was at least some grass I could use that and turn it into bread." He heaved a long sigh. The Fullmetal Alchemist, Edward Elric, reduced to moaning in the middle of nowhere. If only that idiot hadn't called him short. But at least he paid the guy back. Stupid cabby. Couldn't even let them back in to get to Lior, and man was Al pissed at that . . . "Al? Al?" He got on his knees ad looked to the sides. "Al? Al!" His golden eyes whipped around the landscape trying to find his brother.

Another voice came, barely a squeak where he was. "I'm here! I'm here!" The other boy had fallen into the sand, tripping over the build up that occurred dragging his feet around and around, pin wheeling wildly and calling for his brother. This one looked older even if he was the younger brother, and was taller than the lighter-haired blond. His hair was almost brown, a very dark deep yellow. It was cut raggedly, some pieces of hair longer than others, the longest going past his shoulder blades. It was tied up, what could be tied up, in a ponytail at the base of his neck. Sunglasses were flung inches from where he had fallen, looking like a piece of tire on a beach. His outfit was similar to Edward's. His coat was a navy blue and under the colors were reversed. He too held a suitcase. "Help Niisan!" he cried, spitting a mouthful of sand.

Edward Elric, elder brother, sixteen years old. Alphonse Elric, younger brother, fifteen years old. The two were inseparable, they had to be.

The lighter-haired blond muttered a curse and ran over to his brother, who was quite a ways ahead of him. Funny how he couldn't see blue in a sea of golden grains. "If you keep losing me I'll just leave you behind!" he growled, handing the glasses back to Alphonse after helping him up.

"But Niisan . . ."

"No buts!" and he instinctively smacked him over the head.

"Niisan!"

"Don't use that tone with me!"

"You didn't have to hit me! It's not my fault you're so slow."

"What do you mean!"

"I mean your legs are too short to go fast enough!" Alphonse retorted. He started edging away as soon as he realized the 's' word was going to come out of his mouth.

Edward took a moment to process. In those three seconds Al began running for his life. "WHO ARE YOU CALLING SO SHORT IF HE WERE ANY TINIER HE WOULDN'T EXIST!"

"I didn't say that!"

"HOW FAST IS THIS FOR A PINT-SIZED BEAN THAT CAN GET LOST IN THE DESERT BECAUSE HE HAS TO SWIM IN THE SAND!"

"But I - "

"NO BUTS!"

_- Lior -_

"Are you okay, Niisan?" Al asked, still out of arm's reach from his older brother. He had a face that would scare the devil.

Edward glared at him. "It's your fault for not stopping."

Alphonse smiled good-naturedly, happy to have won the little squabble. "Niisan, I don't think anyone would have stopped in that situation." A killer Chihuahua is a dangerous thing, he wanted to add, but bit his tongue.

"Oh really? That's nice . . . " He stopped and turned. Al heard water splashing and also looked.

"Is it . . . water?" he asked. "Niisan, I don't -" Edward was ahead of him, running full tilt at the direction of the sound.

"It's water! Water! Water! Water! Water! Water! Water! Water! Water! Water! Water!" He stopped at the edge, while Al tripped at the stonewalls and fell in. Edward sweat dropped at his sibling's clumsiness and turned back to the fountain.

Al spit the liquid out of the side unknowingly. "Niisan, I wanted to tell you . . . this isn't water." He had a look on his face like he'd bitten into a severely nasty piece of food.

"Yeah, it's red wine," he sighed, scooping it up in a cup. "Is this what you said you smelled earlier?"

Alphonse nodded and felt around the rim before slipping over the side. "It's a lot stronger now that I'm covered in it."

"Hey!" a man lifted the two by their coats. "Children aren't allowed to drink at the fountain!" They had to sort it out with the man, clearing up the fact they hadn't known the fountain was pouring wine and Alphonse was soaked with it because he had tripped. "Sorry," he said afterwards, laughing it off. "Foreigners wouldn't know about there being a fountain of wine. And you," he pointed a spoon at Al, who was wearing an extra set of clothing, waiting for his other things to dry, "you should watch where you're going."

The boy bristled at the comment but forced a lop-sided grin. "Yes, sir, I will."

Edward glanced at his brother, Al's face now unreadable as he stared at the drink served to him. Ed sucked his absently. "Lior must be a really rich town to have a wine fountain."

"Yes! It's all thanks to . . . oh, almost forgot." The man flicked a switch and the radio above came to life. Al jumped in his seat and covered an ear, before settling down again. The brothers listened to the station play a series of intrusments before stopping. A smooth voice echoed through the atmosphere. Everyone had stopped and had their hands folded, as if in prayer.

"Leto shines upon you, my children. In the darkest of hours there is still light he gives. Pray, and be saved . . . " it continued.

"A religious broadcast." Al said, more than asked.

Things went unsaid as Edward and Al took turns sipping at their drinks. The man regarded their ragged appearance and suitcases. "Are you traveling salesmen?"

Edward's drink bubbled over the glass, splashing on the counter. He should know not to blow too hard on a straw. "Oi! Where do you get off calling us salesmen!" he demanded.

"Sorry! It's just that your looks - "

"What's wrong with how we look!"

"I mean, what is a pair of kids doing in this city?"

Alphonse remained indifferent, sucking at his leisure.

The elder brother rolled his eyes and allowed himself to calm down. "We're looking for something." He paused, changing the subject. "Who is that on the radio?" Edward queried, looking up at the shop owner.

"It's Cornello-sama," he said reverently, as if the name was made of gold.

Edward raised an eyebrow. "Umm . . . who's that?"

The man's eyes widened and he leaned over. "You don't know the avatar of Leto!"

"That's why I asked . . ." he replied weakly. All of a sudden, a troop of men appeared holding large mugs of beer still frothing at the top.

"Cornello-sama does miracles!" one said.

"Yes! He creates miracles!"

"He helped this city in the sand, abandoned by all, become rich!"

"What he does is a miracle!"

"Yes!"

Edcovered his ears, irritated by the buzzing crowd. "I'm agnostic. I don't _care_ about religion." He finished the cool juice and stood. "Let's go, Al."

"Sure."The little brotherstood and bumped the glass with his elbow. Ice cubes rolled on the ground as it shattered.

"Hey! I thought you were going to watch it!" the clerk said. Alphonse's mouth twitched again, but he gave an apologetic look.

"Sorry for the trouble, sir. I'll fix it," Edward said, jumping in.

"No, I'll do it," Al interrupted. He bent down and ran his hands on the ground, catching the shards and ice, grouping it in a small pile. Lifting a piece of chalk from his pocket, he drew two circles and five triangles.

The man leaned over to Edward and whispered, "What's he doing?"

"It's an array," he answered in a matter-of-factly voice.

Al nodded. "Here we go!" He laid his hands on the edge of the circle and a flash of blue light and cloud came. When it cleared up, the glass was half full with water, no ice cubes in sight.

Again, the man's eyes widened to saucers. "Y - You can do miracles as well!"

"Miracle?" Edward chuckled.

"We're alchemists," Al replied simply, putting the glass back on the counter. There was a gash on Al's finger, long but very shallow, blood seeping through the right glove.

"Jeez, Al," Edward muttered. He took off the glove and got the water, pouring it on to the cut and wrapping it up with a piece of cloth.

"Thanks, Brother," Al said, a little smile on his face.

"Alchemists, eh?" one of the on-lookers said.

"The 'Elric brother's' should be a famous name," Edward said, a smirk on his face.

All of them looked at him with 'eh?' expressions. "Yes, Edward Elric. The Fullmetal Alchemist," a cloaked woman lifted her face. Her long fingers rested under her chin. "You're a famous state alchemist in East City."

His smirk grew wider, his hands resting comfortably on his hips, accepting the praise.

"Ahh! So you're a pretty famous guy, huh? How young! You must have started when you were thirteen," the men crowding around Al said.

"Why do they call you Fullmetal?"

"Ehh . . . well . . . it's not me . . . " Al said, rubbing the back of his neck nervously.

The men looked from the tall boy to Ed. One pointed at him, "You mean, the little kid over there?"

Edward's face darkened. Grabbing hold of four men per arm, he swung them around and ranted. "WHO ARE YOU CALLING A SPECK OF DUST THAT'S TOO SMALL TO BE PICKED UP WITH A RAG!"

"We didn't say that!"

"Things seem lively today," a young woman said, observing the raucous behavior of Edward. Her pink bangs framed her pretty face, violet eyes large and innocent, she was dressed like a peasant.

The clerk grinned. "Oh, Rose. So good to see you."

"And who are these people?" she asked, her voice naturally sugared with kindness.

Edward threw the scrubs over to the side. "I am the Fullmetal Alchemist, Edward Elric."

Alphonse put his hand on Edward's shoulder, turning to face his direction. "And I'm Alphonse Elric, his little brother."

"He's the older brother?" Rose wondered under her breath. Luckily, Ed didn't catch it.

"Rose, you're done with the offerings right?" She nodded. "Well then, take these young men to the church of Leto, they're looking for something. Maybe they can find it through God."

"Of course," she replied, smiling.

"No, it's all right," Alphonse said, waving his hands in the air.

"Sure, let's go," Edward replied, a smirk on his face. "What could it hurt?" He took Al's suitcase and pushed it into his hands.

"But Niisan," Al protested. He gripped the handle all the same.

Rose looked over at his hesitant face. "The rooms are free," she offered.

"Here that! If I spend any more that Colonel bastard will kill me," the older brother said. "Come on Al!" He didn't wait for his younger sibling to protest, he was already marching off, following Rose to their lodgings. Al sighed and trotted after him staying near one side of the road. Edward soon joined him, tapping his shoulder. "Al, do you remember that woman?"

The taller boy put a finger to his chin, trying to recall the voice. "Not . . . really . . ."

Rose looked back at the two. "Don't worry, you'll find what you're looking for." Both smiled in unison. A smile that said, 'Thanks, but I know better than to hope.' Al rubbed his shoulder briefly. It was so hot outside, he wanted to take the coat off so badly. "And," the two glanced up at her, "you'll be taller if you pray."

Al saw it coming before the words left his brother's mouth and he buried his face in his hands while his older brother started rampaging after Rose. "WHO'S A SUPER-DUPER SHORT KID?" The girl laughed and picked up her pace.

"Niisan!"

Watching the exchange was a man in black robes. A cloth was wrapped around his shoulders. One hand with a red ring held to his cane, the other drawn behind his back. His head was completely bald and his face was set with an expression of interest and ever-present cunning. Glaring at the three with half-lidded eyes, he turned to a man covered in darkness. "Thank you for telling me about them," he said.

"It's no problem," the other replied, flicking a dagger to the floor. It was stained with blood. Cornello looked at the dull blade with a hint of disgust, but nothing more. "Just remember, this is our little secret. Okay?"

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"Here you are. The church isn't very far from here, you can go there to worship," she said. Edward nodded, not particularly interested in where the church was as much as the location of the lavatory. He stepped into the room with a brief note of thanks. Alphonse bowed and apologized for his brother. Curious that Ed was now acting very cold to the girl once he got here. Probably thinking, Al thought, dismissing it. Of course, the younger Elric was right.

Al closed the door and set his suitcase against it. There wasn't a lock and his load was heavy enough to at least warn them if someone was breaking in. Precautions had to be taken. He poked around, running his hand along the bed and walls, bumping into furniture he didn't notice. Edward stumbled out of a room, pinching his nose and gagging. Al caught a heavy scent of perfume and turned slightly green himself. It wasn't that it smelled bad, but it was so thick that Edward's eyes watered. "What is that?" Alphonse choked.

Edward didn't answer he slammed the door shut and shoved his jacket onto his face. "The bathroom," his muffled voice replied.

"Eh?" Al really didn't want to know.

The incident ended when Edward fixed the heavy smell, blowing it out with a concentrated blast of air. He was lucky the window in the bathroom had no glass, he'd have broken something. Not that it mattered too much. Another slam made Al jump out of his seat by the window. His righthand rested on the page, ungloved. The bandage was starting to give way to red stains."Hi Niisan! Did it work?"

"Yeah. It's okay now." Edward flopped onto the bed, his face buried in the musty blankets. While Al had been sensible and taken off the coat, Edward still kept all of his extra layers of clothing on. "Daaaammn," he muttered.

Al adjusted the sunglasses and sighed. "What were you thinking, coming here?" he asked. The tone wasn't one that berated his sibling, just a mild sort of curiosity.

"That Cornello guy is supposed to be a head priest or something," Edward said. It came out like he was speaking with a fistful of cotton in his mouth. That wasn't totally far from the truth either. "We'll check him out tomorrow." Alphonse felt the warm sun still cascading through the window he sat by.

"That's going to be in a while, Niisan." The underlying question was, _what are you planning to do right now?  
_  
Wrapping himself in his red coat, Edward turned away from the window. "I know. So I'll be sleeping."

- To Be Continued -

End Notes: I'm calm now. Sort of. Erm . . . any reviews with questions shall be answered. Such as **Black Angel**'s, and yes, that is the gist of it. This chapter gave broad hints as to what is wrong with Alphonse. (Maybe 'wrong' isn't the right word . . .) I have a chunk for the middle portion and their past is completely done. Wuhahahahhaahaha. I love this fic. My almost intolerable brother is the price paid for good conversation.

This and everything else will be updated slowly, since my Writer's Block should be renamed Writer's Big-Freaking-Wall-That-Has-an-Annoying-Tendency-To-Creep-Up-When-The-Writer-Wants-To-_WRITE_-Dammit. Along with the computer being afflicted with 'lack of recovering files' virus. T.T Can you tell how hung up I am about this?

In any case, I hope you enjoyed, and if you did, remember to leave a kind word in, okey-days? Special thanks again to Moe! Another shameless plug for Hitsuji no Edo's 45 Roy x Ed Themes. One-shots written to a string of various themes, as the title suggests.It'sa great readto follow up Dimensions, or start the FMA reading spree. _(hinthintwinkwink)_Read, review or die.

* * *

_Next; Chapter Three: 3 Blind Mice _

Alphonse: What we did was wrong and we all paid the price. Dad, Brother, and I. We never saw the truth for what it was.


End file.
